The Truth: Not from Concentrate

I could post more often but it takes me a couple of days to decide what to write about. I don't imagine it's because I have such an uneventful life, but rather it's because I'm so busy trying to filter the information that I put out. I feel like I am continuing to repeat the pattern. I have a tendency to not fully express how I'm feeling because I like to present an image that says that I have it together. Honestly, for the most part I do. It's just that there's some stuff from the past, a lil baggage if you will, that I've been lugging for quite some time. Since my back is starting to hurt, I guess it's time that I needs be getting rid of it. So, blogworld, that's one of the things that I resolve to do. I'll start to try to unload some of this emotional stuff. I wonder how life will be when I don't have to carry around this heavy stuff any longer. Having borne it for such a long time, I wonder if I'll know how to actually let it go.

Here goes a start. I grew up in an abusive household. I had to pause after I typed that line to make sure that I wanted to keep the line and continue with some of my truths. You've heard me refer to him* --and for those of you who nodded off or haven't been playing close attention, him* is the one who they insist is my father. My life has felt like a series of contradictions. Him* is a preacher, but used to work as a counselor. (I know right, how is someone who is so messed up himself going to effectively counsel anyone?) Having to deal with the constant badgering, cursing, arguing, mean-spiritedness, hurtful words, etc., was such a far cry from the shell of the man who faithfully stood in the pulpit each Sunday to delineate the many evils of secular living/worldliness.

I could never come to grips with how someone could say one thing publicly and do something altogether different in private. I'm not sure that I'll ever understand that type of thinking, because I believe in being honest and transparent. I can see why he behaved as he did though. I mean, if his private life was exposed to the people in the public life, he would be frowned upon. Who wants to say that their pastor/preacher emotionally abuses his family? If I could play a tape of some of the things that have gone on in the past, any reasonably objective person would ask whether he is really a preacher.

Quick story: (Don't I always have a quick story?) Besides being evil incarnate, him* has a passion for sports, mainly football. I was never that into football. I played as a youngster and even showed promise, but it was simply not my interest. Looking back I think a part of the reason I didn't want to play was to aggravate him. I so despised being in his presence and loathed anything he liked, that I made sure not to like anything that he did so as to limit out interaction. One day my two brothers and I (by the way, they're twins) were at a barbershop. My older sister had taken us, but it was close to time for her to go to work and we had not gotten our haircuts yet. She called him to ask him to come and get us. His reply? I'm watching football. I always knew he like football a lot. But come on, we're your offspring. Your seed. You would rather us look like woolly mammoths than miss a little bit of one measly football game? The realism is, his action-answer was yes. My sister had to call her job to tell them she would be late, so that we could get our hair cut and she could take us back home.

So you say, well that's not so bad. I thought this was going to be deep and emotional. As I said earlier, this is the start of a series of posts. By the way they may not all be in succession, but there will be a couple of posts on the topic. This particular story may seem trivial to some, but it speaks to the position to which the other members of the family were relegated: last place. It speaks to the selfishness that he has. I need to add selfishness to my list of dislikes.